How Much He Loves Me
by ra1n
Summary: Max comes home, exhausted. What does Fang have waiting for her? Funny, cute... call it what you will. R&R, if you will. Not quite sure if this is going to just be a one-shot, or if I'll add to it.
1. What the hell is wrong with Fang?

_**Author's Note: Sorry about this. I got into a really silly mood last night, and I wanted to write something that reflected that. I hope it's not too painful for you all to read. Enjoy!**_

I came home, my wings sore from the two hour long, 200 mile an hour flight home from DC. The house smelled _amazing_.

I could identify that smell _anywhere_. _Chocolate chip cookies. From scratch_.

"Mom? Ella? I'm home!" I called from the front door, taking off my shoes. What I saw next made my jaw drop to the floor. Fang came out of the kitchen, wearing my mom's pink, frilled apron, with an aluminum sheet full of cookies. Oven mitts and all, Fang looked _ridiculous_. I let out a guffaw of amazement at the spectacle before me.

"Everyone's out," he explained to me, a weird, cavalier tone in his voice. "We have two days to ourselves," he continued. I watched an odd grin creep to his face, as I raised an eyebrow.

"Umm… Fang? Why are you acting so… weird?" I inquired, wondering if he was on drugs. Number one, he was _talking_, and number two, he was _smiling_. An honest look overtook the grin, and he sighed.

"I've been thinking about you _all day_. I had this dream… and I realized… how much you mean to me." He placed the cookie tray down, and I maintained my suspicion.

"Uh… hold on one minute," I told him. "Don't move." He did as I told him, and I walked over. I placed a hand on his forehead. Yes, it was a little warm, but it wasn't anything to be concerned about. When I took my hand away, he followed it with his head, and kissed it, giving a tiny giggle. _Damn _it, I thought,_ Fang __does not giggle_! It was then that I realized that I could see his black wings, and then I made the realization that the apron was the _only thing he was wearing_! "Fang, what the _hell_?!" He smiled again and turned around, back toward the cookies, and I didn't want to look, but curiosity got the best of me. I looked. I was relieved at first, but then, honestly, a little disappointed. I could feel my face flushing red. His wings were relaxed, hanging downward so that they covered that no doubt amazing rear end of his. He started to take the cookies off of the sheet with a spatula, placing them on a serving plate. He turned his head toward me, and winked.

"Today is Max's day. You're lucky you just got in, cuz I just drew your bath. Go upstairs, get in, and when you get out, I'll have another surprise waiting for you." Ok. Now I was officially _freaked out_. I come home, no one's here but Fang, naked (for the most part) and baking me cookies. Smiling, talking, _winking_. Now, he tells me that I'm going to have to put up with this for _two days_?? I thought to myself. Well, maybe this was a good thing. I mean, if nothing else, it gave me blackmail material to use against him. And, I was getting to enjoy the only vice I think I have… homemade chocolate chip cookies. Jeez, if I could only snap a picture of him in that apron. _Damn Iggy and Gazzy for ripping my camera to pieces_! They had said, afterward, that the magnesium in the flashbulb was all they needed, and that I would have been proud of the explosion that it made. I smacked both of them upside the head that day, I remembered pleasantly.

I opened the bathroom door, and sure enough, Fang had done what he'd said he'd done. And more. He had set out about 10 or 15 candles, illuminating the room sufficiently that I didn't even have to turn on the light to see the gigantic puff of bubbles inside the bath. I shut the door, and I decided that even though this was weird as… well, really weird, I did need the bath. My muscles were sore, and I smelled… let's just say "less than savory". I peeled off my sweaty clothes, and left them in a pile in front of the door, and smelling the cucumber-melon wafting from the candles, I just… _relaxed_. I turned off the lights, deciding that I enjoyed the natural flame-light from the candles more than the artificial light bulb-light. I stepped my right leg into the bath, feeling the just-a-bit-hotter-than-comfortable water. It was nice, though. Hot water relaxes the muscles. I stepped my other foot in, and I slowly began to recline, allowing my body to adjust to the heat, and allowing the liquid to envelop me. After about a minute, I relaxed totally, closing my eyes and thanking whoever it was that gave Fang the crack that he must have smoked this morning. This was nice.

After about 15 minutes, having cleaned myself up and allowed the water to neutralize the lactic acid saturating my muscles and, I stood up, grabbing the towel that Fang had laid out for me. I noticed three little orange capsules on the bathroom sink that looked like candy. A closer examination on my part revealed that they were not candy, but in fact Motrin. What a great guy he was. I mean, I know that there was _something_ between us, something that we had not really addressed or dealt with yet. I mean, we were teenagers for crying out loud. We weren't that adept at dealing with our emotions, especially those we felt toward one another. Fang was like a statue, unfeeling, unexpressive. I didn't display my feelings, but only out of the unwillingness to hurt or get hurt. But what the hell was this?

I stepped out of the bath, pulling the drain plug, and allowing the now suds-less water to void from the tub. I dried my face first, and then I dried my body. Just then, I heard a knock at the door.

"Yeah, Fang?" I asked.

"I have some stuff for you," he informed me.

"What stuff?" I asked.

"Clothes. Sweats. A shirt," He replied. He knew me better than I knew myself. I hadn't brought in any clean clothes with me. Normally, this wasn't a problem, as I would just put the towel around myself and scamper to my room. But I guess Fang had other plans. Not to mention, I don't think I would have wanted to have been wearing only a towel with Fang acting the way he was. God knows what he would do. I covered my body, and opened the door about a foot. He stuck his clothing-filled hands in, making no presumption to enter. I took them, and then he pulled the door shut. I continued to dry my body. When I was done, I hung the towel up on the peg planted in the upper center of the door. I slipped the sweatpants on, my favorite ones with the sides slit at the bottom. I made those slits when I felt that the elastics at the bottom were eventually going to piano-wire my ankles off. They had belonged to my mom. I smiled, walking out the door, feeling as if I had been turned to Jello. I had finally relaxed, and I walked downstairs with those cookies on my mind. And Fang… what the hell was with him? He was cooking. For me. In the nude. I mean, there was tension between us to begin with, and now he pulls this?

I walked in, and I saw him standing next to the table, the plate of cookies in hand, smiling that illuminating Fang smile. I couldn't help but laugh. The bath, the baking, the… naked Fang. He just… made me so happy.


	2. A Gift for Max

_**Author's Note: So. I would like to thank all of you that submitted reviews, and in such a short period of time, too! It's a nice thing for an author to come home too. I've obviously decided to continue this story, in response to the many demands. And you wanna know the truth? You guys are **__**right**__**. This story is too rich, too…versatile to just leave as a one-shot. There's a lot of Fax-filled fun that I could have with this thing. So, here we go. Oh, and one more thing. I'm usually very meticulous about editing and rereading my work once I'm finished. I didn't do that before I posted the last chapter, and I just realized that there were certain sentences that just didn't make sense. I fixed that. So, if you would like, reread the last chapter, and you'll see a few more details that you didn't see last time. I'll be sure to proofread this chapter before I put it up, too. Enjoy!**_

I walked over to the dining room table, where Fang was waiting for me, still clad in that ridiculous apron. I smirked, just picturing what everyone would think if they were to suddenly come into the house. Me dressing like white trash, camisole and shredded sweats galore, was nothing new. I dressed comfortably whenever I got the chance, seeing as for the longest time, I would go days, sometimes weeks without being able to change my clothes. But I'm not the one on trial here. The issue here was Fang, acting suspiciously like he had just smoked crack out of a light bulb. But seriously, can you picture how Gaz, or even better, Nudge, would have reacted? I was laughing just thinking about it.

"Max, I have another surprise for you," Fang reminded me. I remembered him saying something about that. I'm not sure I wanted to know what this one was, though.

"Um… what's that?" I asked him.

"Well, this is something that your mom helped me with, and I just… well, I thought it was beautiful the second I saw it. It made me think of how much I love you," he said. _How much he loved me_? Oh Jesus. I got the feeling that one of my classic Maximum Ride freakout sessions was about to break its way through my calm veneer.

"Wait. Fang, what is all of this? And what are you talking about, 'how much you love me'? I love you too, but this is… too much. I don't really know where you're going with this, but I swear to god, if this is some kind of joke, I'm going to kill you," I informed him matter-of-factly.

"No, Max. No joke. I'm really, _really_… obsessed with you." Fang looked as if he'd just realized that himself, and told a big secret at the same time. I jerked my head back, as if to say, "excuse me?!"

"Wait… what?" I asked, everything rushing around me in a blur.

"Well, _obsessed_ is not really what I meant. More… smitten. In love, you know?" The corner of his mouth twitched into a fraction of a smile for one second after he said the word "love". Oh jeez. This was all I needed. Fang getting all loopy, not to mention _naked_ in my mother's apron.

"So… what is this? Why are you doing all this for me?" I asked, still not quite sure that I was totally understanding what he was getting at.

"I thought I just told you. _I'm in love with you, Max_!" He declared. I stared, unblinking, still not believing that this was _Fang_ standing in front of me. My mind wandered, thinking of all the bad things that could have happened to make him act like this. I pictured an M-geek wearing his skin, and the real Fang left dismembered in the basement. I shuddered, scolding myself for allowing such a gruesome thought to enter my head at such a… nice moment. I had to make sure, though. I touched his face. I felt around a bit… it felt like Fang, I felt bone underneath his well-chiseled face, and that's when he started looking at me like _I was the weird one_.

He took my hand away from his face, and presented something to me inside a small rectangular box. At first I thought, _great. Fang's gone completely crazy, and is now proposing marriage._ Then I noticed that the box wasn't the kind of box that you put a ring in, however, it was something that you could fit _some kind_ of jewelry in. He opened the small white box, taking the top in his other hand. I noticed the pendant first. It was silver, and it was nothing other than a _pair of wings_. Like angel wings. _Like __our__ wings_. I then looked to the chain, lying in a puddle of itself next to it. The links were so small and fine, I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. It was _gorgeous_.

"Fang, I… I don't know what to say," I told him, looking him earnestly in the eyes. His loving gaze seemed to falter.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, looking a tiny bit worried.

"No, no, jeez, Fang, it's _beautiful_. I hope you didn't… wait a minute… how did you pay for this?" I asked, suspicious that he had used less-than-legal means to do so. I mean, we had all done it before, but a can of food and a silver necklace are two completely different things!

"I told you, your mom helped me." I breathed a sigh of relief. "I saw it, and I thought that it would look _perfect_ on you. Your mom saw me looking at it when we were out, and she didn't even ask me the question. She just told the guy, 'we want _that _one'. And that's how it happened." He paused. "Isn't it nice?"He asked. I nodded, still staring at the necklace. "It's like our little secret. Only you and I… well, and the flock, of course, will know what it really means."

"I love it, Fang. Thank you so much," I told him honestly.I looked at him again, and made the final realization that I could not take him seriously in that freaking apron. "Fang, you need to go change. I can't—" I started laughing. "I can't look at you in that thing anymore, man. It's throwing me off my game!" He started to laugh, and I got up, gave him a hug, and told him, "Go! Now! You need some underwear, at least." He smiled at me, and I secretly hoped that he wouldn't (or would… maybe) return in a banana hammock of some kind. He turned to walk out of the dining room, and as he did so, he batted me with his wing. Yes, yes, I know. This caused him to expose himself a bit (eeeeee!!), and I took that opportunity, even though I was being swatted at with his wing, to give him a hard slap on his bare butt. I felt him jump as the smacking sound resonated through the kitchen.

"Hey!" He said playfully. "That has to wait for later," he continued, and winked at me again. Let me tell you something. Some people are cute when they wink. This kid was just plain _sexy_. He walked through the kitchen, repositioning his wings so that they crossed over his back, and went upstairs.

I looked at the necklace, still in the box in my hand. I took it out, and fumbled with the clasp for about ten seconds before getting in on. It felt good, the thin strand of metal cold on the back of my wet neck.

I was honestly starting not to care _why_ Fang was acting like this. I helped myself to a cookie. Oh. My. God. Not only was this kid great looking, wonderful to me in every way, acting in a way that would allow me to take advantage of him (maybe), but _good god_ he could bake like my mom! I imagined the Voice inside my head going,

"He's a keeper, Max."

I smiled, helping myself to another cookie.


	3. Fang's Confession

_**Author's Note: And some more gratification! But this chapter is going to get a little more serious. You'll like it though, I promise.**_

Fang walked down the stairs, not wearing a banana hammock. I wasn't sure whether or not to be disappointed about this. He was wearing jeans, though. But that's it. Bare feet, jeans, no shirt. Oh _damn_ was he hot. His muscles were well-defined, cut very clearly, looking on the border of… appetizing. I shook myself from the thought, not wanting to fantasize about my Fang anymore that I already had been lately. Wait a minute. _My_ Fang? Oh god. I had it worse than I thought. I mean, yeah, I'm not going to pretend like I didn't think of Fang a little bit more than the average 14(ish) year old girl should, but what had just happened here was… _awesome_. And look at what I did. Leave it to Max to screw something like that up. I mean, he was being _so nice_ to me, and the whole time, I just thought he was on drugs. I'm so stupid when it comes to this romantic stuff. I mean, it's not like I didn't appreciate everything he did for me. I really did. Maybe I just didn't react the right way.

"Better?" He asked, his wing tips just barely visible behind his legs.

"Yeah. In a way," I said, honestly. I mean, the boy looked like an Abercrombie model. With wings. Who was smitten with me. Life was good for now.

"In a way? What's that supposed to mean?" He asked.

"Well, It was kinda _cute_ seeing you in a pink apron," I said, and we both laughed. He moved closer to me, and I stood up, wanting to say something, _anything_, but I couldn't seem to formulate the words. I wasn't ready for all of this. Yeah, there was tension between us, and there was a lot that we both felt that until now, went unsaid. I had the feeling that all of that emotion was about to come pouring out.

"Thanks," he said. It was one of his more nonchalant replies.

"But _why did you have to be naked_?" I asked, wanting an answer.

"Well, really, it was just a joke. I know, from all the years of being around you, that it takes a lot to shock the world-saving, ass-kicking Maximum Ride. It was the only thing that I could think of. I mean, it worked, didn't it?" Oh, I wanted to smack him. He _was_ playing a joke on me. This was all a joke. I could feel my blood start to boil. "Look at me, Max," he said, tilting my chin up with his thumb and forefinger.

I noticed sincerity in his eyes, and it was one of the most moving experiences I think I've ever had. He looked at me with _such intent_, with _such purpose and devotion_, that it actually kinda scared me.

"Max, I love you. I've always loved you. It's not that big of a mystery, is it? I mean, I can remember the day that I realized it for the first time. We were eight years old, in the crates, remember? Yours was right next to mine. The whitecoats were giving me spinal taps, day, after day, after day. You remember how bruised my back was? How it looked black for months on end? How I would come back to the crate and cry, and I would cry wishing just for the pain to stop, only for a minute. I remember one of those days, I couldn't even _walk_, it was so bad. I remember laying in my crate, and watching your eyes look at me, and I saw the pain that you were feeling for me. Looking at your eyes hurt me worse than any spinal tap ever did, and I reached out my hand. Do you remember this, Max?" I nodded, remembering vaguely, not nearly as detailed as he did. I chose not to reveal this though, as this was obviously a very important memory to him. "We held hands," he said, and if I'm not mistaken, a tear welled up in his eyes. "I stopped crying. And from then on, I knew that _I loved you_, Max. I love you, _I love you_," he repeated, as if asserting his realization. "There has never been anyone else." I couldn't help but think of the Red-Haired Wonder. But realistically, we were _way_ beyond that. I was just too stubborn to admit it.

He finished, and it looked as if telling me all of this took a great deal of physical energy out of him. I was so moved. Hearing him tell me all of this was incredible. I can't imagine how it must have felt for him, having bottled this up for so many years. And then there's me, making it worse with all of my snide comments and witty little put-downs. You know, for the first time in my life, I felt like a _real asshole_. No wonder Fang didn't talk much. He couldn't really _say_ anything around me.

"Fang, I'm—" I couldn't even finish. You all know what happens here. His lips were pressed onto mine like a steel trap snapping shut. And you know, despite all of my previous freakouts, all of my insecurities about how this would impact our lives, I _didn't even care_. I was with Fang. And he was with me.

We had kissed before, and it had almost always ended up more awkward than either of us could bear. It was normally me that couldn't handle it. But this was different. I could tell that he mustered all the passion he could for this, and it showed. No, scratch that, it _radiated_ from that kiss. My hands crept up the bare sides of his ribs, and back to his shoulder blades, where his wings were rooted. I felt them, and I let myself disappear inside the warmth, inside the love, inside Fang's seemingly all-comforting embrace. He opened his mouth against mine, and I followed, thinking, _this is what heaven (or at least lots of drugs) must feel like._ Our tongues circled one another, and I only had a second to realize this before I totally _freaked_ and pulled away.

"What? What is it? What's wrong?" He asked, alarm present in his voice. He must have noticed, I mean, how could he not?

"I taste like cookies," I said, sheepishly and self-consciously. He looked at me, and his mouth cracked into a smile.

"_I like cookies,_" he said, and drew me into another earth-shattering kiss, just as passionate as the first.


End file.
